


when you're ready, just say you're ready

by lightseep



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Emotions, Louis and Harry take a break, M/M, Size Difference, Slight Choking, of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:11:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1513397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightseep/pseuds/lightseep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry needs something different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when you're ready, just say you're ready

**Author's Note:**

> for tumblr user bex [walldrug](http://walldrug.tumblr.com/) who showed me those harry/jeff hockey pictures this morning and suddenly this happened. c00l. i can't write anything without a bunch of emotions and angst, so beware. it was also written v quickly, so all errors my own. 
> 
> title taken from rihanna ft. drake "take care."

Harry's hammering heart is the only thing he feels. 

"Are you...are you sure about this?" He swallows and it hurts going down, tastes a lot like fear. 

Louis' not looking at him, too busy slamming drawers and tossing shirts, but Harry wishes he could see his face. It's always been so easy to tell when he's lying. 

"I said I'm sure Harry, christ. Don't make me say it again." And Louis' entire back is taut, rigid with the effort it takes him to keep his breaths even. In, out. In, out.

From his position at the door, Harry can see his shoulders rise and fall and his mouth opens before he can stop it. He just...he just can't....

"Louis, I can't just--"

Louis whirls around, hair flying. "I said _go_. Go, Harry. Do whatever it is you want to do, I don't care. Just," he pauses, rubbing his hands on his face so his words are muffled, "don't-- don't fall out of love with me."

Harry blinks, dumbstruck, and thinks, furiously, he could never, he would never, but Louis' already turned back around and disappeared into their closet. 

So he snaps his mouth shut and picks up his own bag and leaves. 

A break, he thinks. We can do this. A break. 

He ignores how he can still feel Louis' anger on his skin, sticky like a coating he can't brush off. He ignores it all the way up until the jet engines spring to life and lull him to sleep. 

\---------

"A break?" Jeff asks distractedly, both eyes on the game, following the puck madly.

Harry pinches at his bottom lip and refuses to sound anything but nonchalant. "Yeah, it's just like...we were..."

Something happens that he doesn't catch, a blur of motion on the ice, and Jeff jumps and groans with the rest of the crowd when a player misses his shot. 

Harry rolls his eyes and wonders why he can't just fucking say it. "It's not that we're...done, really, but we were just--I was--" and Jeff's not even looking at him, sloshing his beer around and craning his neck to look at the game.

"Oh, come on!" He shouts, booing loudly when the ref ignores him. "This ref, I swear to god," he mutters, folding his arms." 

_You_ , Harry thinks, _I swear to god_. He opens his mouth again, to snap this time, but Jeff is quicker. 

"You were suffocated," he says, and he turns his full attention to Harry, deliberate like he'd been listening all along. Harry almost reels it's so fast, so pointed. He takes a slow sip from his bottle, pursing his lips as he does it, searching Harry's face. Harry looks past him and glues his eyes somewhere on the ice. "You felt like you needed space."

No, Harry thinks. No. It wasn't space. It was more like an itch, he just needed to see. Needed to know. He clears his throat to get his voice. "No, it wasn't that...I just need, like..."

"Something different," Jeff cuts him off, and the way he says it is so casual, so careless. He shrugs, like it doesn't even matter. Harry wonders how long he's been in the business of finishing people's thoughts for them. Fitting himself into people's lives. Giving them something different. 

And suddenly, the way he keeps resting his shoulder on Harry's feels a lot more like something different. 

So Harry takes a chance, bends his knee until it knocks into Jeff's, and he doesn't move away. The crowd erupts all around them but Jeff's eyes are staring straight into his. His face is honest, and open, like he could give Harry exactly what he wants. Like he understands. 

Harry smiles crookedly, sighs. "Yeah," he says, "different."

There isn't a lot to look at in the game, so Harry doesn't look. His eyes glaze over as he feels the heat of Jeff's body close to his. He feels it when Jeff's hand slides down to his lower back, rough and bigger than his own and he feels it when his dick twitches in his pants, when Jeff uses the roaring crowd as an excuse to press in close, to rest his lips on his ear and say "Is this what you wanted?" and say "Is this what you were looking for?" and say "Me?" voice throaty and nothing but bass. 

Harry feels it when arousal slides right through to his bones. On cue, he cheers with the rest of the crowd. 

\-------

It's been so long since Harry's been with someone who doesn't know his body inside and out, how it works, what it likes, that Jeff's curiosity is almost enough to make him come immediately. 

And Jeff is very curious. 

They burst through his bedroom, tangled in each other, and Jeff's hands are everywhere. He wraps his entire hand around Harry's throat as he kisses him, attacking his mouth, and it makes Harry cry out. Except he can't cry out, because he can't breathe. 

"This what you like," Jeff's voice is sin, Harry's never heard it like this and he's not sure if he'll ever be able to unhear it. He's asking, but not asking. Reading Harry and telling him what he finds there. And god, Jeff is so _big_ he feels like he's everywhere at once, and Harry's pressed down to the mattress but if he wanted to get up he couldn't. He couldn't. His eyes roll back in his head when Jeff gets their hips lined up and rocks his hips down, relentless. And Jeff looks fascinated, can't look away from Harry's face, how his jaw goes slack when he rolls his hips slow; how his eyes blaze when he bites at his collarbones.

There are way too many clothes involved. 

"What I really like is when I'm fucked," Harry says, groaning as Jeff seals their mouths back together. He pushes his tongue into Harry's mouth and holds his chin, keeping his head still. Pulling away, Jeff laughs, dismissive, and keeps grinding down, like he doesn't give a shit what Harry likes. 

"Yeah? That what you like?" He leans back and plants his thighs on either side of Harry and they're huge, they're tree trunks. Harry stares, mouth agape, so he flexes them, squeezing them in until he can feel the spaces in Harry's ribcage. "You think I care what you like?" Harry moans, loud and long. "This what you need, hm? My body? Someone bigger than you, to put you in place?"

Harry's hips keep pumping up involuntarily, automatically, but Jeff is too heavy. He ends up creating friction instead and it's good, it really is, Jeff isn't even doing anything, just sitting there, jesus. But Harry can already feel the wandering pieces of himself come back to him. "Fuck...Jeff," he starts, not knowing what to say. "I need--"

"Shh, I know," Jeff says, and blessedly, he starts at the buttons on their clothes. His shirt comes off first and he's not embarrassed about it; he's shameless, flexing so Harry can see all of him. His muscles are cut and slick, a light sheen of sweat highlighting where they curve around his tattoos. Harry wants to ask about their history, what they mean, but then he catches himself and realizes that he doesn't care. 

"Please," he whines, awestruck as Jeff pinches his own nipples and takes his time sliding his hands down to his jeans, his zipper, his briefs. He doesn't have the same patience with Harry's clothes, ripping his shirt and ripping the seams, using his teeth to bite at Harry's hip while he pulls his briefs off. 

Harry's dick is insistent, knocking into Jeff's cheek where he's teething at his thighs. And it all feels so good, all of it, that Harry's about to cry out for more when, like he knew it was coming, Jeff gets his whole hand around Harry's cock, finds his eyes, and kisses the tip. 

Harry's entire body jolts. His hips press up and Jeff pops off. His voice is fucked. 

"Don't move." Jeff licks around the head, eyeing his hips and daring them to so much as quiver. 

"Ok," Harry breathes, looking at the ceiling. Ok. 

Jeff doesn't tease, does about the most steadfast blowjob he's ever gotten. There's nothing funny or romantic about it; he gets straight to the point, hollows his cheeks so intently, like he's after a prize, and when his lips meet his hand Harry chokes on air. With every sloppy noise Jeff makes, Harry makes one twice as loud, clenches his fingers into the sheets so he won't touch, so he won't move, so he'll be good. When he feels his orgasm coming, rolling around in his gut, he looks down only to find Jeff staring right back at him. Like he knows, Jeff winks and Harry huffs out a laugh, giddy. 

Jeff pulls up all the way to the tip, tugs at Harry's balls once, twice, and sucks, hard. Harry curls his toes and comes. 

Before he can even open his eyes, Jeff rolls him over on his stomach. He slaps his ass, hard, and Harry's eyes fly open. 

"On your knees," he says, and god, he swallowed, Harry thinks. He fucking swallowed. Panting, he gets on his hands and knees while Jeff snatches a condom and dips his fingers into the lube. 

It's clear that there's not going to be anything romantic about this either. Jeff is insistent, two fingers at once, and he looms over Harry's back while he does it, so Harry can feel the weight of him all over, can feel where he's pressing Harry back into himself. 

"You want my dick, don't you," he says, panting and biting into Harry's ear. And Harry's hit with how confident he is, how he knows that Harry's going to like it. His mouth goes dry. 

"Yeah, I can see it all over you, sweetheart," he says, scissoring his fingers so Harry bites his tongue. "Don't do that--wanna hear you scream."

Quick, he rolls the condom on and pushes in without warning, so Harry screams. 

There's no waiting, no adjusting, just giving and taking. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," Harry says, and he can't stop, knows that Jeff doesn't want him to stop, knows that his fingers are going to leave prints, knows that Louis--god, _Louis_ , knows that Louis will see them later and get red, get possessive, and fuck Harry until he can't even remember who the fuck Jeff is. 

Throwing a hand to the headboard, Harry moans louder than before. It's that thought alone that gets his dick hard again, miraculously. Thinking of Louis--who let him do this, who pretended not to care, who trusts him enough for this. 

Deep in his throat, Harry whines and he lets Jeff think it's for him. 

Jeff is on fire, his entire body draped over Harry's back until their sweat slides together and catches in Harry's hair.

"Shit, Harry," he says, and Harry clenches so he'll feel that, will remember how good Harry is at this, will know that he's never getting it again. 

Jeff fucks like he does everything else, quick and to the point. Eventually he presses Harry flat to the mattress so he can change the angle. Harry whines and turns his head so he can breathe, so he can remember this, this exact moment, when he realizes that he doesn't need this.

He might want it, but he doesn't need it. 

When Jeff finally comes he's grunting, and Harry smiles feeling his soul settle back in place. 

\------

After, there's no fuss. There's no conversation. Jeff drives him to the airport and it's comfortable, it's fine. But when he gets Harry's bag out the trunk, he brushes their hands ogether.

Harry smiles at it, says "Thanks, bro," walks away towards security, and calls Louis.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on [tumblr](http://fleshriots.tumblr.com) heyyyoooo!


End file.
